


Break the Walls Between Us

by remmyme



Category: Supernatural
Genre: (sure we'll call it that), Assertive Dean, Blow Jobs, First Time, M/M, PWP, dirty dirty blow jobs, jad made me do it shut up jad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-24
Updated: 2017-05-24
Packaged: 2018-11-04 05:59:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10984815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/remmyme/pseuds/remmyme
Summary: Dean rapidly blinks away his confusion. “You want me to…what?”





	Break the Walls Between Us

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from Aerosmith's ['Angel'](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CBTOGVb_cQg)
> 
> This is all DCBB smut chat's fault BUT MOSTLY YOU, [JAD](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jad/pseuds/jad).
> 
> Written for the prompt 'assertive Dean' though I...may have dropped the ball on that one.
> 
> ALSO, here is the link to the aforementioned jad's [fic](http://archiveofourown.org/works/11012064) that was written to the same prompt and she is so much better at words (even if she did shamelessly steal my first line) so you should definitely read hers as well. Like, really. It's awesome.

Dean rapidly blinks away his confusion. “You want me to…what?”

Cas pulls both arms slightly away from his sides, palms out and shoulders stiff; a gesture Dean knows to be Cas’s own special, socially retarded version of a shrug. “As an angel, I’m…incapable of sexual desire.” Cas casually tugs off his trench as he speaks, ignoring Dean’s weak _Wha—Cas, wait—_ to continue, “But sex doesn’t repulse me in any way, and I certainly enjoy being close to you.” He turns from Dean to lay his coat across the foot of Dean’s bed, fingers moving to his throat to deftly undo and discard his tie as well. He steps away from the bed, again standing directly before Dean.

Cas catches and holds Dean’s gaze as he slowly, deliberately flicks open the top two buttons of his white dress shirt. The cuffs receive the same treatment and Cas rolls up his sleeves. Dean’s suddenly having no little amount of trouble remembering how to breathe.

“I love you.” Cas holds out his arms again, this time in obvious invitation. “And you want me.” Like it really is just that fucking simple.

“Are…” Dean cuts off, honestly having _no idea_ what the fuck he’s supposed to say, here. “What?”

Cas allows himself a split-second huff of breath and barely-repressed eye roll then he moves, two steps forward and he’s very suddenly right in Dean’s space, closer than he’s been in years; intense and gorgeous and _unfair_ , goddamn it, that’s fucking cheating and Cas knows it.

Cas’s chin ticks up, bringing him that much closer. “Use me, Dean,” he says, quiet and low. “However you’d like.” He smoothly drops to his knees, heedless of the hard, unforgiving concrete and dust putting grey streaks on his dark slacks. “I’m yours.” 

For a long moment the room is deathly still, Dean’s uneven breaths the only thing to fill the silence between them until, all at once, something in Dean abruptly snaps into place. This is _Cas_ , Cas who is nothing if not frank and honest and true – at least where it matters, at least where his own thoughts and feelings are concerned, because he never learned any different, never learned that people know shame and hide certain parts of themselves for fear of being burned – and the next thing Dean knows his hands are at his belt, frantic in his need to grasp at what’s being freely and knowingly offered by the literal angel at his feet.

Cas’s eyes burn into Dean's as he pulls out his half-hard cock, daring and undeniably pleased. Dean strokes himself with one hand, the other moving to rake through Cas’s hair, soft and thick and exactly as he imagined it. His fingertips brush lightly across Cas’s forehead, tentative and unsure. Cas merely presses into the touch, rocking forward enough that Dean’s forced to pull back lest Cas get a dick to the eye, and no one needs that, fuck’s sake. Dean huffs a laugh and reverently runs a thumb over Cas’s eyebrow, fingers tucked in and around the bolt of his jaw, and once Dean’s started he can’t stop; mapping out the beloved lines and angles of Castiel’s face with fleeting touches over his stubbled cheek, the bridge of his nose, the sinful curve of his dry and plush upper lip.

“Are you sure?”

Cas’s gaze goes sharp in warning. “Dean,” he says, a gritty growl that causes Dean’s dick to jerk in his hand.

“Fuck, Cas,” Dean breathes, and takes the base of his cock in a stabilizing grip. He pushes forward to smear the head of his length across Cas’s mouth, painting his lips wet with slick. Dean repeats the motion, circling Cas’s mouth again and again; mesmerized by the way Cas’s lower lip pulls under the weight of his cock. Cas lets him, open and trusting and more than Dean deserves, but when he nudges the barest bit _in_ Cas’s lips part only enough to let Dean feel a teasing hint of heat before he’s met with the barrier of teeth; mouth pliant but not yet open and Dean immediately pulls away, is for one heart-stopping moment sure Cas has changed his mind, isn’t as okay with this whole clusterfuck of a situation as he let on.

Cas’s hand immediately comes up, curved around the back of Dean's thigh and fingers tight to halt any burgeoning thoughts of retreat.

The angel’s eyes spark in sly amusement, a surer tell than any tilt of lips. He pointedly leans into Dean’s hand, three fingers digging into the sharpness of Cas’s high cheekbone and little finger pushed to the corner of his mouth, catching on a drag to reveal the tempting wet of lip.

Dean stares, stupid and so turned on he just might die, what the actual fuck.

“Son of a bitch,” Dean curses, the hand at Cas’s cheek falling to curl under the angel’s jaw, and at the first hint of pressure _now_ Cas falls open, easy as you please. “Jesus,” Dean says, tone colored with disbelief even as he slips his cockhead into Cas’s mouth.

It’s good, impossibly good for less than an inch of wet heat but Dean’s knees very nearly give at the first sight of Cas’s thick lips bowed around Dean’s length. Dean’s releases the grip on his dick to instead brush through the hair at Cas’s forehead, combing up to grip at the thick of it, keeping Cas still as he begins to shallowly fuck into Cas’s mouth. Cas takes it without complaint, completely pliant under Dean’s hold and he can’t help the broken, desperate moan that tears from his throat.

Dean continues to rock into Cas’s mouth, deeper and deeper with each pass until he can very definitely feel himself hitting the back of Cas’s throat, fluttering and tight and so fucking good. He knows he’s pushing past what most people would be able to give, knows it’s too much too soon but Cas takes it all the same.

The hand high on his thigh clenches harder into the heavy fabric of Dean’s jeans, fingers tucked into the curve where ass meets leg and _really_ fucking distracting. But Cas makes no move to probe or explore (and Jesus, fuck, just the thought has Dean’s thrusts going rough and uneven), simply keeps a solid and encouraging hold that follows every shove of hips.

He both loves and hates the way Cas’s eyes never once leave Dean’s face, intense and knowing and allowing him nowhere to hide. More than once Dean rolls his head back to pant his pleasure at the ceiling only to be inevitably drawn back, green eyes to blue and no more secrets, no more unanswered prayers or uncertainties or years and years of Dean’s own bullshit denials left between them.

Cas shifts, then; dropping lower to almost-but-not-quite sit on his feet, and Dean would assume he’s looking for a more comfortable position, but then the change of angle has Dean’s dick sliding in, and in, and _in_ until he’s buried to the hilt and Cas’s nose is pressed to his groin, throat tight around him and tongue a delicious pressure on the underside of his cock.

In a dizzying wave of arousal it hits Dean all at once. That Cas is other, Cas is an _angel_ and the last thing he needs to worry about is a non-existent gag reflex or, fuck, even _air_. And Dean didn’t really get it, before, but suddenly feels like the General Idea here just up and brained him with a two-by-four.

_(“Use me.”)_

Dean _groans_ , loud and long and greedy. He holds Cas’s face flush to his hips, doesn’t allow him an inch, and Cas simply swallows around him, humming slow, dark little noises with every constriction of his throat and yeah, no way is Dean coming out of this alive. Dean lasts for less than a minute before he jerks back, too quick and he slips out completely but it was that or come _right the fuck now_ and Dean’s not done, not yet.

Dean rocks back forward but misses Cas’s mouth to instead smear across Cas’s cheek; a slippery trail of saliva left in his wake and Cas’s scratchy stubble sinfully good on his oversensitive cock. Dean’s hand leaves Cas’s jaw to guide himself back between Cas’s lips but, somehow, in his fumbling rush ends up practically smacking his dick to the side of Cas’s face, instead.

For a long, endless moment Dean is completely, totally still; heart and breath itself frozen in his chest. Cas has his eyes on Dean, calm and patient and very, very blue.

Dean slaps him again.

“ _Cas,_ ” Dean gasps, breath coming back all at once, fast and shallow and he’s definitely still not getting enough air but oh, god, the sound alone: the filthy, wet and sharp _pop_ of Dean’s cock hitting Cas’s cheek, oh holy shit. Cas must see it, must sense just how close Dean is to absolutely fucking losing it because he doesn’t let Dean hit him again, instead turns his face into Dean to lavish his cock with hot and dirty open-mouthed kisses. Cas moves up and down the length of him, tip to Dean’s fingers at the base and back, teasing and slow.

Dean lets him, watches those perfect pink lips work him over, but it does nothing to help him calm down, he is officially past the point of no return. He’s desperate, he’s gone, he’s stick-a-fork-in-it done and _please, please, please, Cas, please,_ is literally the only thought left in his fried-to-shit brain.

“Yes,” Cas says, half into the blood-warm skin of Dean’s dick and half into his own fingers. “Yes,” and Dean has no idea if he’d actually said the words or not but Cas is answering him all the same.

Cas pulls away, and Dean’s cracked whimper of urgent protest turns into a belly-deep moan as Cas sinks down on him, once again taking Dean into the perfect damp heat of his mouth. Cas’s free hand goes to Dean’s hip at the same moment Dean’s drops to brace to his shoulder and then Dean’s thrusting recklessly into him, chasing down every ounce of pleasure Cas’s mouth can give.

Soon, way too fucking soon he’s teetering on the edge, can feel it sparking at the base of his cock and then, fuck, sly goddamn _bastard_ , right at the moment Dean knows he’s gonna tip over Cas suddenly has both hands planted firmly on his ass and he _pulls_ , forcing Dean deep and he comes so hard he almost falls; settles for curling over Cas’s head, hand digging into Cas’s shoulder hard enough to bruise, gasping out Cas’s name at every intensely pleasurable pulse of release shot straight down his angel’s throat.

“Fuck,” Dean croaks, ten seconds or ten years later, floating high and dumb in the wake of the best orgasm he’s had in…ever. “Fuck,” he repeats on the tail end of a laugh because really, _fuck_. “You alright?”

Cas lets Dean’s cock slip from his mouth and briefly presses his face to the soft and smooth skin where hip meets groin. He pecks a kiss to the cut of hipbone he finds there, looks up to pin Dean with exasperated eyes which belie the pleased smile playing at his lips. “Yes, Dean. I’m very alright.” His gaze goes questioning. “Are you?”

“God, Cas,” Dean huffs, rakes a hand through Cas’s hair in soothing, easy strokes. Cas’s smile grows and he leans into the touch. “I’m good.”

Cas’s hands come up to tuck Dean away and straighten his pants; Dean’s hold on Cas’s shoulder shifts to help pull the angel to his feet. They stand together, both grinning like idiots and suddenly it’s the easiest thing in the world for Dean to sway forward and catch Cas’s swollen lips with his own. It’s soft and sweet and stupidly awkward because they’re still fucking smiling but it’s good, it’s right, it’s _theirs_ and yeah, Dean’s really, really good.


End file.
